


Leather

by BloodyAbattoir



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Glove Kink, Hand & Finger Kink, Nonbinary Character, Other, POV Second Person, Self-Insert, Unconventional Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 12:00:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19062253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodyAbattoir/pseuds/BloodyAbattoir
Summary: Just a little bit of fandom trash here, for all the creeps, myself included, who have a thing for Valdemar and their gloves.





	Leather

**Author's Note:**

> Implied relationship between you and Valdemar. NB pronouns used for them. It is second person point of view. No real sex happens here, so no anatomy is described. Reader may as well be gender neutral.

"You are a strange one, aren't you?" Valdemar asks, tipping their head to one side quizzically. 

 

You make a slight hum of agreement in your throat. You were fine with letting them prattle on and on, currently too distracted by inspecting their hand. The slender greenish digits were encased in fine leather that fit like a second skin. If it were anyone else, the leather would've been warm from being worn all day, but instead, it was cool and dry. 

  
You flipped their hand over, interlacing your fingers with them, marveling at the softness of the leather, only to be pulled out of your reverie by the Quaestor calling your name. 

 

"Hmm?" You asked. You'd been so caught up in admiring their hands that you didn't even realize that they were talking to you. 

 

"I said, you really do have such a fascination with my hands." 

 

A blush quickly stains your cheeks. No doubt, they likely had some idea of the filthy things you fantasized about while you were alone in bed. Now, they'd called you out on it. 

 

"I can't really blame you, they're such fantastic instruments." Valdemar practically purred, locking eyes with you. You dropped your eyes quickly, unsure of what else you could say to that without giving yourself even further away. However, knowing your partner, they'd likely already figured it out ages ago.

 

A predatory grin spread across their face as they continued, "But the way you've been acting, I'm nearly positive that you'd like to do more than just admire my hands, now wouldn't you, pet?" 

 

"Y-yes." You admitted. By now, you were positive that nearly all the blood in your body had rushed into your cheeks. 

 

"Then why are you  _wasting_ my time like this?  _Show me._ "

 

You looked back up at them, shocked. Certainly, you must be hearing things! But yet, there was no trace of laughter or mockery displayed on that narrow face. They were as serious as the plague, if not more so. 

 

A thousand thoughts ran through your head. The most obvious, and the most likely to get you killed, was to literally shove their hands down your pants. Of course, you'd thought about it many times before, but you weren't quite certain that was what they were expecting you to do. Despite 'dating' for a while, there was precious little physical contact in the relationship, as time and time again, the Quaestor had mentioned to you that their true form was physically repulsive and quite likely to cause a nervous breakdown in those who cast eye upon them. As such, you highly doubted being so forward would be welcome. 

 

Instead, you opted to take things at a much slower pace. You unlaced your fingers from theirs, wrapping your fingers instead around a slender wrist, and pulling their hand closer to you. They watched you eagerly, perhaps a little too eagerly, but you were more focused on the hand in front of you, especially now that they were actually letting you initiate physical contact, a true rarity, and you'd be damned if you let this moment slip past without savoring it. 

 

You press kisses to their hand, starting with the palm of their hand and working your way up to their fingertips, down to their wrist. You bite down gently on the bone that protrudes out of the side of their wrist, eliciting a faint gasp from the Quaestor. 

 

Emboldened by this, you bite down just the faintest bit harder, and Valdemar lets out a quiet moan. 

 

You are practically high off endorphins as you lick your way back up their hand, tongue tracing every crease in those worn gloves, dipping in between fingers. 

 

Finally, you decide to try your luck, and lean forward to take two of Valdemars fingers into your mouth, licking and sucking at them as if your very life depended on it. The taste of leather and cleaner and something you can't describe floods your mouth. You let out a whimper, grazing your teeth over the fingers that were almost reaching down your throat. They could strangle you right now, asphyxiate you with a mere twitch of their fingers. The thought of it only turns you on further. 

 

You hazard a glance up at the Quaestor. They are staring dead at you, pupils blown wide open, eyes glazing over. 

 

In this moment, you could die happy. 

**Author's Note:**

> Im not really into writing smut, but this plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone. If I had to suffer through it running around my mind, so do you.


End file.
